Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Blow Jobs, Frotting | Rubbing Penises Together, Choking, but not very aggressive, First Time, Genderless Reach, Reach uses it/its pronouns, Pre-Chapter 6
My piece for the 2023 Holiday Truce is finally done! I wrote this fic for @jadenoryuu and their super interesting prompt:
Danny's tired of being the Ghost King, so he institutes the "GZ Next Regent" (a-la Nation's Got Talent). All the participants have to sign a binding contract before making a candidature: to always answer truthfully to Danny during the "show" and don't sabotage or harm (even indirectly) the other participants. The various parts of the show consist in trying to convince Danny that they're worth being the next King/Queen under selected categories: Power, Motives, Ideals, etc. No one would have ever predicted (not even Danny), that the winner would have been the Box Ghost.
I had such a blast writing this for you, and I'm sorry I kept you waiting!
The fic is up and completed on AO3 now!
Read a sneak peak here:
To be honest, Danny was really over the whole “Ghost King” thing. It seemed like since he gained the title, his problems have increased exponentially. On top of his run-of-the-mill fights with the normal cast of characters (which were really more for show now than anything else; he’d established a weird sort of camaraderie with his regulars), he also has been fighting newer, much more powerful ghosts intent on stealing the crown from him. He’s been able to beat them all so far – he didn’t become the King for nothing – but it’s getting a little old.
On top of that, those cryptic ghosts with one eye and sticks up their asses keep coming to him for all manner of things, in the most inconvenient of times. He’s running out of excuses for why he suddenly has a propensity to slam doors, cabinets, shower curtains, windows, etc. whenever someone walks into a room unannounced. They never come to him for anything urgent either, always talking about “holding court” or “signing decrees”. He really couldn't care less. Clockwork has been keeping them at bay as much as he can, but there’s only one of him, and seemingly endless little Mike Wazowski ghosts who want to ruin his day.
Despite it all, Danny really felt like he was managing everything relatively well. That was, until junior year hit, and his parents urged him to start taking AP classes. He still aspired to be an astronaut someday, and he knew he had to get his grades up to do so, so that’s what he tried to do. If he could go back in time (and with Clockwork, maybe he would) and tell his younger, fresh-from-the-accident self that his grades would start to worry him more than the ghosts did, he’s sure the young him would laugh in his face. And yet, here he was, working desperately into the night, not getting any sleep, not because he was fighting ghosts – most of his fights were relatively short, nowadays – but because he needed to get all of his AP work done on time (and correctly) to even stand a chance at getting into a good college.
Now, he could see adulthood on the horizon. His senior year was about to start, and really it was more of the same – plenty of ghost fights, plenty of dodging the Observants, and plenty of homework. But now the threat of college loomed over his head, and surprisingly, he found that this was the straw to break the poor camel’s back.
He realized that he would have to give something up, and one night in an impassioned rant to Sam and Tucker, he stumbled upon his solution. He didn’t want to be the Ghost King anymore.
Not really sure where this came from but I vaguely remember waking up at 4 am to write this. Don’t really remember what dream I woke up from or what was going through my half asleep brain but it wasn’t expecting anything like this.
It’s not horribly long but I’ll cut the post down since this is primarily an art blog.
It feels strange to wake in a body you have never inhabited before, then again, I don’t think I’ve ever inhabited any body,
My first memory I make is blinking away the dabbles of sun that filtered through the tree above me. The body I live in feels heavy and tired, weary from the forgotten dream I woke from. I feel a pull of instinct that drives my body forward. The need to keep moving.
The world around seems known to me yet undiscovered and foreign. Familiar memories unknown to me guide me through the landscape. The sparse trees around me ring through my mind as oak and a few bushes I recognize as wild roses by its thorns but everything I look at draws a blank. Many flowers, grasses and bushes are still unknown to me dazzle my fresh eyes. Guided by a trail of white flowers hidden bashfully in the clover, I arrive at the edge of thicket I had rested in. A nostalgic wonder sweeps over me.
Grass, as far as the eye could see, only interrupted by the odd lonely tree that dot the plains. Some stand guard with a friend or few, some more in the distance hold the front line to thicker woods.
I am home.
And I know where to go.
I must follow the edge of the thicket westward. Something I need waits for me there.
Tracing the tree line I stumble across a lazy creek cutting through the earth and thicket. Fed well by recent rains and leads on, later filtering into the lowlands a bit ways down.
I walk up and look into one of the creek’s more languid waters, searching to find myself. My reflection is strange. I don’t believe I’ve seen a creature such as myself before. Then again, the only creatures I’ve witnessed so far were the birds that sang while I was awakened and the small fish that swim behind the image of me on the surface.
The only thing I can recognize before me are warm, dark brown eyes that unmistakably hold what I am, who I am and what I always have been. They’re rich with the life I’ve lived before waking and keep a hope I wish to seek out and experience more of.
This creature in the waters I can now recognize. It is unmistakably the beautiful creature that is me.
Pairing: Johann Coyote x Lemuel Fike
Word Count: 2473
Rating: NSFT
Warnings: None
A/N: I really love the Moonshiners DLC for rdo and Lem is sweet and I couldn’t help myself. It gets spicy but there’s no particular kinks. Part 2 will happen eventually.
It was good to be free, to have Aunt Maggie back. Being back in the business good too, even if he was still incredibly worried. Lem still had nightmares. The smell of smoke could fill his stomach with cold, heavy dread on the wrong day.
Aunt Maggie was confident things would be different this time. Lem didn't question her, not aloud anyway. He still found himself constantly checking over his shoulder, nervous at any unfamiliar sounds. He still worried she was pushing too hard and too fast. Aunt Maggie cheated death once, he doubted that she could again.
"We got somethin' we didn't have before."
"What?"
"Him."
She gestured to Johann, the man in the middle of a conversation with Marcel. Lem didn't understand a word of French but Johann seemed too. At least some of it. Sometimes Marcel would say something and Johann just scowled.
She was right though. It was Johann who stopped his prison transportation. It was Johann who killed all those revenue agents. He'd also rescued Marcel, even if the Frenchman liked to embellish his stories. He also blew up their competitor's operation. Aunt Maggie wouldn't say it to the cowboy's face but she was real impressed with his work.
Lem tried to thank him a few days after the rescue. When he was feeling better, well rested and stomach full. It was awkward at best honestly. Johann was so goddamn quiet, his expression always difficult to read. Lem stumbled over his words, which only got worse when Johann smiled.
"Oh don't worry 'bout it."
He was left more confused than before, face and ears red. There was just something about how Johann smiled. Something real beautiful and real sad.
It wasn't difficult to find an excuse to be around the cowboy. Work usually cut it. Johann was doing most of the heavy lifting as it was. How could it hurt if Lem gave him a hand?
Johann still didn't talk much, Lem did enough for the both of them, but he seemed to warm up in his own way. Always patting him on the shoulder, sitting with him instead of on his own.
The absolute worst, or best, happened in Van Horn though. Their delivery was long done, just passing through. Well, a stop in the saloon. Neither of them were the best cooks. And it wasn't difficult to tell a revenue agent apart from everyone else. Always in stuffy suits and complaining about the mud and grime. Lem felt the dread start settling in his gut, hand itching to draw his revolver. He counted five or six of them....
"Too many innocent folk."
The cowboy grabbed his arm and dragged him into a small room. Shut the door and out of habit placed a hand over Lem's mouth. As if they weren't already in each other's space. The room is down right tiny. Yet he could barely hear Johann breathing as he listened.
For once, the unfamiliar voices and sounds of footsteps didn't bother Lem. He was far too focused on the gunslinger. His palm was rough. Smelled of gun powder and leather, a hint of blood. His body radiated warm, firm and solid against Lem. Tense. Holding completely still until he was positive the danger was gone.
"Doesn't sound like they were lookin' for us. Good."
Johann sighs, hand moving away from the other's mouth. Unintentionally caging Lem against the wall with his body, hands against the wood on either side of him. His hand, shaking, comes up to brush over the cowboy's cheek. Feeling the scars that marred his skin, the little bit of stubble. Warm skin. He can feel Johann tense up. Momentarily fears Johann was going to lash out. Hit or, even worse, throw him to the mercy of the revenue agents.
He doesn't.
Wild blue eyes focuses on Lem's face, clearly searching. Leans in, pressing their bodies closer. He can feel Johann's warm breath on him. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, deafeningly so.
Chapped lips, Lem is sure his aren't any better, press against his. His hands fly up to grab Johann's vest, grounding himself. Holding himself upright even. Lem didn't think kissing another man could feel so good but hell, it sure did.
A small gasp escapes past Lem's lips when Johann leans back. Almost following so they could keep kissing.
"I ain't... "
Johann starts but quickly stops, kissing him again. His hand comes up, fingers gently scratching at Lem's beard before cupping his cheek. Gently nips his lower lip
It abruptly stops as soon as it started.
"This ain't the right place for this."
Though they both linger close to each other, collect themselves really. They couldn't go back out into the saloon dishevelled and lips red. And Lem doesn't have words. All he can do is just look at Johann, confused and honestly? Aroused. His jeans are starting to feel tight.
Johann seems to be having the same problem too. Awkwardly trying to adjust himself.
"Anyone could walk in."
He explains, Lem nodding in response. That implies they would kiss again. That, well, they would probably do more.
They decide to stay in Van Horn for the night. Yeah, the revenue agents were gone, but they had set up a number of check points. It was best to stay off the roads, right? And the saloon owner, a loyal customer, was more than content to work out a deal with them.
---
Moonshine always burned a little, Lem muses to himself. Can still taste it in the back of his tongue. He needed something to take the edge off, feeling like he was hyper aware of everything. Especially Johann.
"You can have the bed."
Lem watches as he places his hat on the table, sits down and lights a cigarette. Takes a long drag on it before offering it to Lem. Their fingers brush as he takes it, Lem feeling his heart jump. He mimics Johann before letting the cigarette hang from his lips. Watches as Johann shifts in his chair, very clearly moving to give his growing erection space. It gives Lem a much needed ego boost.
His now free hand reaches out to let his fingertips brush over the scars at the corner of Johann's mouth. Breathing hitches when his wrist is grabbed, his fear soothed when Johann kisses those very same fingertips. Feels the calloused thumb softly rub into the soft skin of his wrist.
"Are you sure?"
Another drag on the cigarette before Lem puts it out, nodding.
"I've never... with another man."
Johann leans forward, kissing the same space his thumb has been on Lem's wrist. Keeps holding even as he stands up. He wonders if the outlaw's heart is pounding just as wildly as his own.
"We ain't gotta do much."
The kiss feels just as intense as it did in that small room. Definitely not like kissing a woman. Johann isn't soft but he's solid. Solid and warm pressed up against him. Finds himself leaning in just a little more, bringing his hand up to cup his face. Mimicking what Johann has done earlier and scratching his scruffy skin. He swallows down the groan Johann makes.
It definitely spurs something in him too. Johann lets go of his wrist and both hands grab his hips. Closing any space between them. Lem doesn't know what to do with his hands but oh lord, he doesn't want this to stop. Besides, it might feel different but it's still kissing. He can do that. He knows how to do that. Awkwardly, his hands come to rest on his shoulders.
They both move to deepen it, trying to learn each other. Taste each other and memorize it. He can taste the tobacco on Johann's tongue. Could Johann taste the moonshine on his?
"Here."
Johann pants, urging Lem towards the bed. Pushes him down and drops to his knees. Hands start undoing belts.
"I... Oh shit..."
Lem moans louder than he expected too when he feels that warm hand grab his erection. Legs instinctively spread further apart, making more space for Johann. Those big blue eyes are looking at him and it's good he's sitting down because his knees feel weak. He lets his fingers card through the thick hair, gently grabbing it. Johann doesn't seem to mind, hand slowly starting to work Lem's cock.
"Just relax, yeah?"
Lem's only ever paid for a woman to do what Johann does. Watching Johann give the head a tentative lick knocks the air out of his lungs. He practically wheezes when Johann starts to take him into his mouth. One firm hand his holding his hips down, which is probably for the best. Otherwise he might thrust hard into the warmth. And Lord, is it warm. Wet and welcoming and all Lem can do it moan as it engulfs his cock. Grip on Johann's hair only tightening, desperately trying to keep himself steady.
Throwing his head back, Lem feels his erection hit the back of Johann's throat. Can feel his nose pressed right against his groin and his throat fluttering around him. His chest heaves, desperately trying to catch his breath. Toes curl and uncurl, Lem daring to look down. That sight alone is damn near enough to make him finish. Big blue eyes tearing up, looking up at him, as Johann holds his head down. Keeps Lem deep in his mouth and swallows.
There's that familiar burning in his gut, pleasure pooling there. Worried, did Johann want him to come down his throat? Lem tugs his hair. Trying to guide Johann off his erection. For now, at least.
Johann looks so pretty, if that's the right word, with his face flushed and lips wet. Strands of spit hanging between his cock and those lips.
"Don't like it?"
His voice is a little rougher, edged with worry. Lem shakes his head, the hand moving from his hair to cup his cheek. Johann's eyes flutter shut and he leans into the hand, his own slowly working Lem's erection.
"Wasn't sure if I could finish in your mouth."
He can't imagine it tastes good and Lem doesn't want to do the wrong thing. Johann just chuckles.
"Where did you wanna finish?"
Oh. Lem swallows, hard, cock twitching at the question.
"... On your face."
The hand working him picks up momentum, only stopping so Johann's tongue can run along the underside. Giving the head soft little licks and Lem swears this is how he's going to die. Or rather, he won't be lasting long at all.
It's impossible to keep his hips still, Johann the only thing keeping them from jerking into the touch.
"Jesus."
Lem's eyelids flutter, wanting to close them and get lost in the pleasure. He also wants to watch Johann. God, he's so close. So fucking close.
Johann gives him exactly what he asks for, slowly working Lem as he shoots his load over his face. His lips are parted, wet, and face flushed. Lem moans, low and rough, at the sight. Fingers loosen their grip on thick hair, gently tucking it behind Johann's ear as he tries to catch his breath. He feels so pleasantly exhausted now, just petting the cowboys hair. Who seems more than content to stay there and be pet.
Almost like he doesn't have his own incredibly hard erection pressing against the front of his jeans. Begging for attention.
"I ain't ever done... well, I ain't ever sucked dick before."
Lem admits when he notices it, unsure. Still, he wants to do something. Johann closes his eyes and leans into the hand, smiling.
"You don't have too."
Taking a handkerchief and standing, he wipes his face clean. Groaning as hand run up his thighs, further up until Lem is palming against the bulge. He knew what he likes, he can only assume Johann enjoys similar things. It gets him a low moan, pressing his hips into the touch. Awkwardly, he gets the gun belt off. Lays it down to the side with care. Untucks the shirt and undoes the jeans, fingers hooking in the loops to tug them down. Johann has to help a little and -
"Jesus Christ."
He's huge. Not that Lem has seen enough dicks to compare, but he's obviously heavy and thick. Lem swallows, trying to mimic the way Johann had taken his erection in hand. Uses precum to help make his movements more slick. It twitches and oozes more clear fluid.
The outlaws head leans to the side, eyes closed and lips still parted ever so slightly. Panting softly.
He looks pretty like this too.
"Here. Sit back a little."
Lem does as Johann instructs. He knows he needs the guidance. When Johann straddles his lap, it's a more familiar position. Hands immediately rest on his hips, pushing any fabric out of the way to feel skin. Rough hands cup his face and Johann is kissing him. Biting and sucking on his lower lip.
He's more than happy to have Johann roll and rut his hips against him. Though he can't imagine the fabric of his shirt feels that good. Reaches between them to take hold of Johann's cock, pumping it. Working it like he would his own. Feels Johann pant and moan against his cheek. Lem must be doing it right.
Unlike Lem, Johann doesn't make much of a sound when he finishes. Spills into his hand, cock hot and twitching, with no real warning. Pressing sloppy kisses to Lem's cheek and jaw, still rutting into his hand. Rides out the high as a hand snakes its way into Lem's hair.
"Next time," Johann growls into his ear, tugging his head back, "Gonna bend you over 'nd take you."
A shiver, jolt of pleasure, runs up Lem's spine.
--------------
"You mean what you said?"
It's early morning, the road's empty. They know they need to get back to Maggie and Marcel. Let them know they're alive and split the money.
"What?"
"Last night," Lem tries to sound casual, like worry isn't eating away at him, "Did you mean that?"
"Oh," Johann huffs, hoping the blush on his cheeks can't be seen, "I mean, if you want a next time."
Lem chews the inside of his cheek. The silence drags on as he tries desperately to put together words. He didn't think he was.... well, you know, interested in that sort of thing. Or maybe it was just Johann. The strange gun slinging outlaw that suddenly appeared in his life. Like a knight in shining armor. Was he suppose to be the princess? And here Johann was, admitting he would want to be intimate with him again.
"I'd... like that. A next time, I mean."
He just barely notices the way Johann sighs with relief, shoulders dropping.
Post lines from a WIP for you, your cat or whatever~
So this one's for @cuteskitty 's amazing idea of an Overwatch Ult combination fic! This is my first time setting foot in the Overwatch writing half instead of reading so, umm, keep that in mind?
-
It starts like the best stories do, with a hero, a love story and a happy ending.
Now, now, don't make a face. I c'n see it from here.
What never makes it into the books (yes, plural, don't you think about sassin') is how the hero ain't exactly a hero, least wise the sort that makes it into books for kiddos to read.
The love story ain't conventional neither— not with two men who look like they've fallen out of stories they're supposed to be the heroes of; two sharpshooters, masters of their particular brand of weapon.
I reckon the happy ending's just a happy endin' but y'know, took a hell of a time gettin' there.
Invisobang 2024! OMG it’s finally here! This was such a crazy project to work on, and I’m grateful for the mods of @invisobang for being so patient!
I partnered with @dakkapel and @sumiink, who have been so incredible to work with! Go check out their amazing art!
Who Killed Vlad Masters? is a Murder Mystery, Choose-Your-Own-Adventure style fic where YOU are a detective trying to solve the murder of Amity Park’s very own Vlad Masters. Will you catch the killer? Or will his death remain a mystery forever?
The first section is out on ao3 now, and more of the fic will be posted over the next few days!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
